


Sweater Weather

by brunchywrites



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas fic, Fluff, I lied, Other, Winter fic, because it is a happy ending, hi my name is eliza and i can only write fluff y'all done been knew, its angst now, just silly fun stuff, more fluff in the last chapter i swearsies, tooth rotting fluff actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-08-26 14:58:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16683769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunchywrites/pseuds/brunchywrites
Summary: “Bruce this sweater is too big-”“Jason, it’s below freezing outside, you’re wearing the sweater.”





	1. SW

“Bruce this sweater is too big-”   
  
“Jason, it’s below freezing outside, you’re wearing the sweater.”  
  
Jason groaned, “Come on this is totally unfair! It’s not even actually snowing outside, Gotham doesn’t get snow. It gets weird slush that crunches under your boots and makes your nose burn because you’re sniffly but no snot will come out because it’s frozen inside!” He pulled on the collar of the sweater. Honestly, he was right. The damn sweater was about three sizes too big and hung against his frame like a knitted drape.   
  
“Fine then, it’s slushing outside and you’re being ridiculous. Martha Kent knitted this sweater for you-”   
  
“Probably for Dick, judging by the color scheme and size.”   
  
“Jason-” Bruce warned him, it was a good warning. Jason wasn’t dumb and he sighed through his nose and folded his arms over his chest.   
  
“I’m not saying it to be mean, I’m saying it to be obvious. You can tell by the stitching in the shoulders that it’s for someone who’s broader than I am, and it’s that blue that Dick seems to have everything in. Oh, and-” he looked at Bruce pointedly, tilting his chin up and narrowing his eyes. “You’re bad at lying, your nose twitches when you try to.”   
  
Bruce brought a hand up to his face, “Well aren’t you just the detective..”  
  
“I learned from the best, don’t get mad at me.” Jason stuck his tongue out and pulled at the bottom of the sweater again, “It just looks awkward on me. But jackets exist so I’ll wear one over this. Excuse me,” he slipped past Bruce and went to his closet, digging through the variety of over coats that Bruce demanded he have for when the weather got colder. Jason picked out a black one and took it off the hanger, swinging it over his shoulders and buttoning it all the way up.   
  
“What are we even going out for anyways? I know it’s not to make snow angels.”   
  
Bruce grunted, a noise that Jason had gotten so used to hearing when Bruce promptly didn’t want to respond to something.   
  
“And the big tall mister of night gives no response, more at five,” Jason rolled his eyes and got his shoes on. “Do I have to leave without you?”   
  
“No, you don’t. This was supposed to be a surprise.”   
  
“A surprise where I have to wear a homemade Kent sweater?”   
  
Bruce shook his head, “No, wise guy. We’re going to be outside for a few hours and you don’t need to get that cold or sick.”   
  
“And why are we going outside for a few hours?”   
  
“Jason, it’s a surprise. I can’t tell you until we get there.”   
  
“Then let’s go! C’mon I’m already dressed and you’re being captain broodster let’s go! I’ll race you!”   
  
“Oh no- Jason you can’t win the race. You know you can’t.”   
  
“Watch me!” And with those words Jason ran out of his room and down the hallway, suddenly regretting how far his room was from the stairs. He could hear Bruce’s thundering steps behind him and for a second wondered how the hell he could be so quiet as Batman when as Bruce he sounded like a herd of elephants trying to squeeze into a minivan. Jason picked up his own pace until he got to the stairs, swinging a left against the railing and tossing his leg over it.   
  
After all, the banister had been polished two nights ago.   
  
Jason looked up at Bruce and grinned at his shocked face, laughing shortly as he slid to the bottom of the stairs. He jumped off the banister and tailed it to the garage, pace getting faster in anticipation. They were probably gonna take the most incognito civilian sedan they owned, and just as he was about to fish the keys off the hook he was grabbed by both sides.   
  
“Bruce no!” he squealed when he was lifted up, kicking and swinging but somehow always missing Bruce’s face.    
  
“Bruce yes, I told you you wouldn’t win the race, chum,” Bruce laughed and Jason pushed his face away with his hands.    
  
“Well you’re a sneak and a cheater!”   
  
“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just used my natural advantage over you.”   
  
“I don’t think being a giant is a natural advantage!” Jason twisted out of his hold until he fell to the ground, flat on his ass. He glared up at Bruce but he couldn’t hold the nasty look for long. After all… he still had the keys.   
  
He sprung up from his feet and ran to the sedan, aggressively hitting the unlock button as many times as he could before he slid over the roof of the car and got in on the passenger’s side. He jammed the key into the ignition and watched Bruce run over.    
  
The door on the driver’s side swung open and Bruce reached over and promptly tickled Jason in the side.   
  
“That was a jerk move!”   
  
“So was picking me up, so now we are completely even.” Jason snorted and slapped his hand away from his side as Bruce got in the car and got buckled up. Jason followed suit and they both sat in a comfortable silence. The car was chilly and Jason hugged himself while he waited.   
  
Bruce started the car and pressed the button on the garage door sensor so that it would open, reversing out of the garage with an ease Jason hoped to one day master. He looked out of the window once they peeled out of the manor and were surrounded by the beautiful groves of snow kissed trees on rolling hills and countryside. In winter it felt the most beautiful. The pine trees stood tall, strong against the gusts of slushy snow, managing to make even that look beautiful.   
  
He closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool glass of the window, eyes tracing the shapes of snow capped hills and icy trees in the darkness.   
  



	2. Snow Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason wakes up not knowing what's going on, maybe going back to where it all began will help.

The cold was burrowing it’s way into Jason’s skin, seeping it’s way through his clothes all the way down to his socks. His chest burned with every breath he took and his eyelids felt as heavy as lead. Everything ached in a way that he couldn't remember ever aching before.   
  
He pushed himself up onto his elbows slowly, grunting against his aching muscles and taut bones. His helmet suddenly went down, like his head wasn’t fitting inside of it anymore.   
  
_What the hell?_  
  
Jason yanked the helmet off of his head, eyes wide as he held it in his lap. Shiny scarlet revealed his reflection and he felt like he had to be dreaming, or hallucinating. It was one or the other and he couldn’t figure out which it was.   
  
He rubbed his eyes and he looked down at his reflection one more time, and a pit filled his stomach.   
  
He was used to his reflection, who wasn’t used to their reflection? His reflection wasn’t himself though.   
  
And it wasn’t who he _used_ to be either, it wasn’t Robin.   
  
No, it wasn’t possible.   
  
It wasn’t possible.  
  


The pit in his stomach filled his entire body with dread and he could only sit there, cradling his helmet in too small hands, fingers pressing against the hard metal.   
  
He was the boy he was before Bruce found him, scared, malnourished, with an attitude to boot but scared.   
  
Jason threw his helmet across the snow and heard it thwack against a metallic wall, pinging shortly afterwards. This wasn’t happening to him, this was just some nightmare and he would wake up.   
  
He stood up and felt the cold of the snow hit his skin. His clothes were soaked all the way through and sticking to his skin in horribly cold bites. It felt like it was stinging him and he patted off the snow. There was no way in hell his pants were gonna stay up.   
  
Or his boots on his feet

 

Or his underwear   


God damn it.   
  
He shucked off his clothes, he couldn’t lose time by having them weigh him down and in his current state? He’d probably sink into a snow pile faster than a steaming kettle. 

  
Jason was left in just his jacket and he knew it was going to be a long trek. There was only one place for him to go, and as much as he didn’t want to, there wasn’t much he could do in the body of a child.   
  
Hell, he couldn’t do much when he _was_ a child. Now he was in that body but with the wit and skill he had learned over the years. Or missed years, depending on how he thought about it.  
  
He took care in zipping the jacket all the way up to his chin and headed out on his way. The snow was cold beneath his feet, biting, and painful, but he could manage it.   
  
There was only one person in the world that he could go to. Gotham had never been a kind place for children, especially not to children like Jason.   
  
The one kindness Gotham had ever given Jason and he had to go back to it. That kindness was more of a vice, a memory of the things Jason would rather like to forget than hold on to. There was no escaping _that_ kindness, and it was his way to figure out what the hell had happened to him.   
  
Gotham doesn’t get snow. It gets weird slush that crunches under your boots and makes your nose burn. It’s a snow that makes you depressed and reflect on the worst parts of your life.   
  
The snow becomes more snow-like when you travel through the outskirts, into the part of the city where all of the rich people lived, a tucked away corner of beauty in a city of chaos.    
  
Jason’s feet have long since gone numb as he walked down the dark, curving road. He was positive he started shivering hours ago, and he can feel his teeth knocking around his skull like clock work. There was nothing he could do but keep walking, and thinking. What was he going to say when he got to the manor.   
  
_Hey, something happened and now I’m nine again, surprise!_

 

Or maybe-   


_ Long time no see, well something happened and I kind of need your help, oops.  _

 

He snorted out a half laugh as he walked along the dim road, one foot after the other. If he focused on just getting there he didn’t feel the pain as much. His fingers had gone numb a while ago and every time his feet hit the asphalt they burned. 

 

He turned one of the wider turns, blinking away a haze that started to form over his vision. Jason had been walking for hours in the bitter cold and exhaustion was finally starting to take him. If he could just make it to the manor’s gates he would be fine, at least that was what he continued to tell himself as the wind made his face sting.

 

In the distance he heard the roar of an engine, the roar of an engine that was the best money could buy but also the best engine that could have possibly been created. It was a familiar noise, the soft thrum and the louder it got as it picked up speed.   
  
The Batmobile, of course. Of course Bruce would be out, it was the middle of the night.   
  
Or early morning, Jason didn’t have the first idea, honestly. Judging by the headlights that reflected his shadow, it was early morning and The Bat was on his way home from patrol.   
  
Just _peachy._ Jason didn’t know what to do other than keep walking so that was what he did, one pained step after the other.   
  
He heard the Batmobile stop behind him, the engine purring as the door swung open. He could hear all of the little clicks and the near silent footsteps coming around him. What was he going to say? What was he going to do?   
  
His heart was racing in his chest and he halted his own walking when the Dark Knight spoke,   
  
“It’s too cold for you to be out here like this, young man. Let me take you home,” his voice was weirdly formal, weirdly warm and coaxing. Of course it is- Jason felt stupid. Batman wouldn’t recognize him. The last time they talked it had been a blowout argument and Jason swore to never come back.  
  
He tilted his head down and looked at the road, he could see Batman’s boots in his peripheral and a strong hand came down onto his shoulder.    
  
“You’re also quite a ways from the city, I can take you back home, it’s alright.”   
  
Jason swallowed and stood completely still, trying to stop the way his shivering made his entire body move. He wished he could just will himself to stop shivering, to not feel the cold as much as he was feeling it. It was pathetic, he was pathetic.   
  
He steeled himself and took a small breath in, “Bruce.” One syllable, one word, one name. That was all it took and he felt strong arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him close as the cape drew over his back.   
  
It was a sudden reaction, a reaction Jason never expected from him, not in a million years. The hug was warm and he felt himself leaning against it more than he wanted too. He felt safe.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Updates are really far apart, sorry. Also sorry because I lied and said this would be fluff, blame the batcave server and their angst inspiration lol   
> if you want to follow me on tumblr it's @brunchyarts.tumblr.com 
> 
> please comment if you liked it


	3. Finale

Jason hugs his too knobby knees to his chest while he sits at the dining table. He’s still shivering violently and the bottoms of his feet are too raw to move.   
  
Under him is a heating pad and he knows that his body temperature has to be brought up slowly but he also just wants to throw himself in a hot bath and leave it at that.   
  
Unfortunately, Alfred is a very thorough caretaker, and tuts around him every now and again. Jason isn’t a blind man- well.. Boy. He can see the flashes of pain that occasionally come upon the old butler’s face.   
  
He buries his face in the blanket that’s tucked around his shoulders and he closes his eyes. Why him? Why did god seem to choose him him to take his pain out of? Jason wishes he can catch a break. It isn’t fair, it really isn’t fucking fair at all. It isn’t fair to him, it isn’t fair to Alfred, and it certainly isn’t fair to Bruce.   
  
Jason wants to yell, say that he’s fine and that he wants to be left alone, but he knows there’s not a chance in hell anyone will let him out of the manor on his own. Ten years old was a useless age to be.   
  
Ten years old is a god awful age, and a god awful age to have all of your memories in.   
  
“Jay-lad, you can’t fall asleep.”  
  
He blinks and looks up, glaring. He’ll sleep if he wants to sleep, but Bruce has no business speaking like that.   
  
“Don’t call me that,” he hisses and shifts, stiff fingers curling tightly against the warm blanket.   
  
“How did this happen?”   
  
Jason rolls his eyes. Immediately into the questioning. He honestly can’t remember what happened and he bites his lip while he tries to think. All he can remember is waking up in the snow, and being a hell of a lot smaller.   
  
“I think I was fighting someone,” he had to be, why else would he be in the suit?   
  
He can’t remember who he was fighting, and that’s a problem. It must’ve been someone magic, if they turned him into a kid again but left his memories in tact.. They had to be strong.   
  
“I don’t know,” his head hurts trying to think about it. He feels like he knows who it is but their name and image is completely gone from his mind.   
  
“That’s okay.”   
  
Jason looks up at Bruce, and he makes sure he fixes his face in as hard of a glare he can manage.   
  
“Cut the shit, Bruce. It’s not okay and you know it. Look at me, I’m ten again but I still remember everything that happened to me”  
  
Bruce’s face goes from neutral to a bit of a harsh expression before it fades back into a blank slate. Jason would guess he’s suppressing his emotions again but he can see how taught Bruce’s jaw is and the vein in his forehead pops slightly.  
  
In other words, Jason’s struck a nerve. He has to fight the smirk off his face but he can’t help it, it’s always been entertaining to crack Bruce’s stoic act like an egg.    
  
“We have to find a way to fix it.”   
  
“No, I figured I’d just hang around for nine years and hope for the best. With my luck whatever this.. Is, it’ll wear off overnight and I’ll wake up good as new without any recollection of this happening-”   
  
“Jason,” Bruce’s tone changes but Jason’s talking and he can’t talk. He supposes he’s always had a bad habit of talking too much when he should really shut up.    
  
“And we can go on like always, you yell at me, I leave, wash rinse.. Repeat. Maybe we’ll have some weird family brunch and I’ll throw a knife at Tim-”   
  
“Jason-”  
  
“You kick me out, which is fine, I do my thing- you do yours. Boom, it’s our thing. I mean really this is probably the most temporary thing ever, just pretend I’m not here it’s easier,” he doesn’t know what he’s saying, but he can’t stop talking either. “Gotham snow fucking sucks, y’know that? It’s disgusting, muddy, and probably has diseases-”   


He cuts himself off, tasting blood in his mouth. He slowly brings his finger to his mouth and it comes back dotted with red. He bit his tongue while he was talking.   
  
His ears ring as he examines his hands in the light, fingertips still a slight blue, not finished warming up yet but his index finger is coated in blood. He can’t stop staring, his eyes go out of focus and he thinks maybe he’s dying.   
  
But big hands eclipse his too small ones, and the back of his neck is pushed forward just enough so that his face is resting against a broad chest. It’s warm, but not unbearable.   
  
He feels the hot tears start to pool in his eyes before he gets the chance to pull himself together, he shouldn’t be emotional. Jason should be able to handle a stupid curse, he shouldn’t be crying.   
  
“It’s going to be okay, chum. For right now it’s going to be alright. Let’s sleep and talk about this tomorrow, okay?” Bruce smooths a hand through his hair, an impossibly calm hand that makes Jason want to cry more. This shouldn’t be happening, not to him- not to anyone.  
  
Instead he nods, and whispers a soft, “Okay, yeah,” against Bruce’s chest.  
  
He’s slowly picked up and held just as close, like a little package that’s held with the care and affection that only Bruce has.  
  
Before he knows it they’re upstairs but not in Jason’s room, no. They’re in the master bedroom and Jason’s being set down and another blanket is pulled over his body up to his shoulders.   
  
When Jason was little he used to sneak into Bruce’s room and sleep back to back in his bed. It was always comforting but someway, somehow, Jason would wake up wrapped in Bruce’s arms with no escape.   
  
He feels a back press against his and he lets himself smile, wiggling a little closer and closing his eyes.  
  
For one night, maybe he could let himself be ten again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i didn't edit this so if there's errors please forgive me. I wanted to end this on a good note where u can guess what happens next!!!
> 
> if you enjoyed my fic shoot me a follow @brunchyarts.tumblr.com or a comment. i genuinely would also like a critique for this if anyone is willing?


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